


In From the Rain

by Shoulder_Devil



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Trick or Treat 2018, Trick or Treat: Treat?, Unrequited Crush, have some tea to make it all better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 14:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16431371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shoulder_Devil/pseuds/Shoulder_Devil
Summary: Jon shows up at Martin's door asking for help.AU where Helen rescues Jon from the circus only to drop him off in a random alley near Martin's flat.





	In From the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chiiyo86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiiyo86/gifts).



A knock at his door sent a jolt of adrenaline through Martin. It had been ages since Prentiss held him hostage but even so, knocking at his door after dark still set him on edge. He switched off the burner under the pan of chicken he was cooking. The last thing he wanted was to be dealing with some kind of supernatural threat only to have his kitchen catch fire because he left his dinner unattended on the stove.

He just reached the door when the knock came again, softer, almost tired. Martin hadn't managed to have a peep hole drilled but he did install a door chain. As soon as he cracked the door a heavy weight pushed it open as far as the chain allowed. Martin jumped back in surprise with a yelp.

“Martin,” Jon groaned, “I need your help.”

“Oh, god, Jon. I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you.” He could see a sliver of the Archivist's face through the gap. He looked like hell, hair plastered to his forehead with the evening’s rain and so pale he was practically bloodless. “Just a second, I’ll get the door."

A dangerous sort of excitement threaded through the worry tugging at Martin’s chest as he pushed the door closed to unlock the chain. Jon had come to him for help, _him!_ Clearly, things were going terribly for Jon. But the fact that he had been willing to seek out Martin’s assistance managed to stoke the place in his heart where his hopeless crush lived.

_I'm going to have to deal with that someday._

Jon practically fell into his arms once he got the door open. It had been a few weeks since he’d seen him but it looked like Jon must have dropped another ten pounds off of his already thin frame. The Archivist’s eyes held a fevered sort of brightness as he gripped Martin’s shoulders to steady himself.

“Christ, Jon. You’re soaked through. How long have you been outside?” Martin made double sure the door was locked behind him as he led Jon into the flat.

“I’m not exactly sure? I’m still processing everything but Helen, she…” His eyes lost focus off into the middle distance and started to sway a bit. “Probably a while.”

“Who’s Helen? Nevermind, here,” Martin helped ease Jon out of his wet coat. Underneath, his shirt was more or less dry. He lowered Jon to his faded, floral print couch and handed him a blanket. “Do you want some water? Tea? I was just making dinner, there’s plenty if you want some. You really should eat.”

Jon’s eyes wandered around the room surveying Martin’s mismatched assortment of charity shop furniture without really seeing any of it. After a moment he seemed to register Martin’s question. “Oh, yes, thank you.” He blinked a few times and looked to Martin, “I could do with some tea, I think.”

“Right! I’ll put the kettle on and be right back. And get out of those wet shoes, you’ll catch your death.” Martin patted the back of Jon’s hand in what he hoped was reassurance but felt more like jittery nerves on his end of things. Jon’s hand was surprisingly soft, an odd detail to notice but it lingered in the back of his mind as he filled the electric kettle.

The smell of chicken and garlic reminded him to the burner back to medium low heat for a final simmer. Dinner should be done by the time the tea was finished steeping. His mother always accused him of feeding problems rather than dealing with them. Well in this case, a good meal seemed exactly what the situation called for.

Martin popped his head out of the kitchen to check on Jon. It didn't look like he'd moved from where Marin left him sitting. His shoes and socks were in a neat pile next to the couch but the blanket sat untouched in his lap. He sat so still it was almost as if he’d forgotten how to move. Shallow breathing was the only sign of life coming from the Archivist.

“Jon?” he called from the doorway startling him out of his trance.

“Yes, Martin?”

“Are you alright? I mean, I _know_ you’re not alright. Why else would you be--”  
  
“Martin,” some of Jon’s firmness worked its way back into his voice. He started again, softer this time. “Martin, I’m much better than I was. Thank you.”

* * *

Martin left Jon on the couch while he cleared away the dishes. It didn’t look like he would eat at first but after some coaxing, Jon finished his whole plate and even accepted a second helping. He was tight lipped about what had happened to him and Martin tried not to pry. He couldn’t help but notice the bruising around Jon's wrists that he tried to hide. Jon would open up when he was ready, if he was ready. The important thing for now was to make him feel as safe as possible.

Now that he’d had a chance to warm up, some of the color was coming back into his face. He didn’t feel feverish or overly cold when Martin put a hand to his forehead. Even there, Martin noticed Jon’s skin was unsettlingly soft. When he mentioned it, Jon turned away and curled in on himself.

_Stupid!_

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean--” Martin sighed. “I always mess things up.”

“No, it-- you couldn’t have known.” Jon made a conscious effort to relax. “It’s been… difficult. Traumatic and… And I’m having trouble believing that it’s actually over, that this isn’t some kind of dream or hallucination or…” Jon shrugged helplessly.

“Look, I don’t know what you went through, and if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine. I’m here for whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Martin. I do appreciate it.” He offered Martin a faint smile. “Right now, this is exactly what I need.” Jon sighed and sank back into the couch, his arm brushing lightly against Martin’s. 


End file.
